Estel Tries On Hats
by sylc
Summary: Estel loses his favourite hat so Elrond takes him to Lindir the hatter to get a new one. My response to Shadow Maiden's  challenge: "Write about Estel and he has try on something."


Estel tries on... hats

When Estel lost his favourite hat to the Bruinen river one morning whilst out walking Elrond's hound, Elrond had felt compelled, on seeing Estel's tears, and being the owner of the hound and the one who had asked the child to walk the hound in the first place, to buy him a new one.

That afternoon, he took the young boy to see Lindir, the most fashionable hatter in Rivendell. The hatter, after pushing a new and meticulously embroidered silk handkerchief into the hands of the still sniffling child, carefully adjusted the angle of the green acorn-shaped hat on his head, then set about investigating the dimensions of Estel's crown with a short length of measuring tape.

"What sort of hat would you like?" Elrond asked as he watched Estel blow his nose loudly and wetly into the handkerchief. He hoped Estel knew because he himself knew nothing about hats and he did not wish for Lindir, the hatter, who he only knew by the elf's immense reputation, to find out this fact and think him ignorant.

"I..." Estel began. He hesitated. Lindir paused in measuring up his head and peered attentively down at the boy's indecisive face.

Elrond smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging manner. "What sort of hat, Estel?"

"I... do not know."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Then Estel looked awkwardly up at Lindir. The hatter smiled brightly at him. "I can do anything, child. That is why they call me the best. Feathered? Brimmed? What sort of brim? Animal skin? Rope? SIlk? Noldorin? Rhovanion? Metal? Woollen? Paper?" He nodded enthusiastically. "Name your desire!"

The tailor's energy, if it did anything at all, only served to deflate Estel. The boy stared blankly back at Lindir's smiling face and the acorn-shaped hat for a while... and then lowered his eyes back to the soiled handkerchief.

There was another uncomfortable silence. Lindir, who still had Estel's head entwined in his measuring tape, pursed his lips and looked critically at Elrond. Elrond smiled confusedly and spread his hands and wondered why Lindir was looking at him so critically. Lindir rolled his eyes and looked pointedly around his narrow shop, every surface of which was crammed with all sorts of strange and wonderful and colourful hats.

Ah. Elrond understood.

"Would you... like to try on some hats, Estel?" he proposed.

Estel glanced at him, then glanced back at Lindir, who beamed and deftly unwound the tape caught in the boy's dark tresses before stepping back. "What a wonderful idea," the hatter said, flicking back his long green sleeves and putting his hands on his hips. "Estel, pick a hat - any hat!"

Estel looked around slowly. He looked at the hats crowding the walls and the furniture. He looked up at the hats hanging from the aged wooden beams on the ceiling. He looked down at the hats painted on the wooden floor. Then he looked at Lindir and the green-acorn shaped hat on the elf's head. Then he looked at Elrond's smiling face. Then he looked around again before trotting off and making his way over to a yellow straw hat with a blue band that sat amongst a pile of other yellow hats. He stuck it on his head, then went over to the mirror and studied his reflection, no expression on his face.

"I like it," said Elrond, though he rather thought the youngster looked like the elf responsible for dicing meat in the kitchens. He looked at Lindir. The hatter shrugged.

Estel took off the hat and put it back. Then he went over to the purple hats and selected a hunting hat with a yellow feather in it. He returned to the mirror.

"I like that one too," Elrond said because he genuinely did like it. He looked at Lindir. The hatter frowned at him and shook his head.

"It is _so_ Second Age, Elrond," the hatter muttered to him under his breath.

Estel shook his head, took off the hat, and returned it to where he had found it. He returned to the mirror, a blue suede hat with a perky brim stuck on his head.

Elrond glanced sidelong at Lindir and decided, on seeing no smile on the hatter's face, to say nothing. He noticed that the words "I LOVE YAVANNA" were embroidered neatly on one side of the acorn-shaped hat and suppressed a grin.

"It is very popular at the moment and looks fair on your face," Lindir said, looking thoughtfully at Estel, unaware of the half-elf staring at the words on his acorn hat. "But rain will damage it and it is not very practical."

Estel nodded and put the hat away. As he passed the black and white hats, he selected a black and white checkered hat with a round brim.

Elrond smiled when Estel put it on his small head. It certainly fit the boy, but he thought it was too eye-catching. Undoubtedly, the tree-hugging elf wearing the acorn would love it. He looked at Lindir and was unsurprised to see the hatter smiling broadly.

"I like it," the hatter said.

"I do not," Estel said and he put it back. Lindir frowned. Elrond smiled triumphantly on seeing the frown. Lindir, on noticing his gaze, rolled his eyes.

Estel returned to the mirror many times. He tried white hats, blue hats, green hats, red hats, pink hats, brown hats, string hats, metal helmets, and even an orc helmet, but he seemed to like none of them and to be completely unaffected by Elrond's and Lindir's comments.

Finally, he grew tired of trying on hats and sat down on the painted floor in front of the mirror.

There was a long silence.

Elrond went over to the boy and crouched down beside him. "Do you want to try another hat shop?" he asked. "Or are you tired?" Certainly he, Elrond, was tired. He despised shopping for clothes and clothing accessories and he did not particularly like Lindir; the fashionable elf with the overly-healthy relationship with the environment made him feel so unfashionable, lazy and ignorant, and Elrond, as the chief loremaster on Middle-earth, was unused to feeling ignorant or lazy.

"Is it urgent that you find a hat today?" Lindir asked suddenly. He tilted his head when Estel and Elrond looked at him. "I am expecting this season's hats to arrive from Lothlorien and Lindon any day now."

Estel ignored the question. Instead, the child looked back at the mirror. Elrond looked at the boy's reflection and observed a deep furrow in Estel's brow. He studied Estel's expression for a while and then, as a thought came to him, he rose and went over to Lindir.

"I know exactly what hat he wants," he told the hatter quietly. "Come, come to the desk. I will draw it for you." He went over to Lindir's desk, pushed aside the hats that covered it and found some drawing paper. As he drew, the knowledge that Lindir's mystified eyes were closely following every pencil stroke made him feel very pleased with himself. He felt like a loremaster again. Respected. Adored. Relied on.

When he had finished, he put the pencil down quietly, picked up the drawing, and handed it to Lindir who studied it silently for a while, no expression on his face.

Then the hatter spoke. "This is _so_ ugly."

"I think so too," Elrond said, smiling broadly, and wondering if Lindir would take up the challenge to make it.

"Is this... a real warg head?"

"Aye."

"And are those the _real_ teeth of a warg?" Lindir's lip curled.

"Aye."

Lindir looked at the drawing a while longer. Then he turned his head and looked at Estel who was still sitting cross-legged on the floor. The boy had found a large grey pointed hat and had pulled it down over his head so that the brim rested on his shoulders. "Pray, why do you think he wants to wear a dead warg on his head?"

"Because this looks exactly like his favourite hat - the one that he lost this morning and which floated off down the river."

Lindir looked back at the drawing. "His father shot the warg for that hat, did he?"

"Aye."

"Who is going to shoot the replacement?"

Elrond looked at the purple hunting hat that was "_so_ Second Age", had a gleeful mental image of Lindir sprinting at full pelt away from a slavering warg, and bit his tongue. "I have no idea."

"Hmm." Lindir looked thoughtful. "Well..." he said then, slowly, "I do not normally turn away business, but in this situation... how about you send some riders down the river to locate and fish out the old hat?"

Elrond blinked. He had not thought of that. Why had he not thought of that? He looked at Lindir. Then he looked at Estel, who was still hidden beneath the pointy grey hat. Then he looked at Lindir. Then he looked at Estel. Then he looked back at Lindir and smiled and snapped his fingers.

"I will do that," he said. "I will do that right now. Thank you." He then turned to the door. "Come on, Estel. Let us find your warg hat before night falls."

"I like this one!" was the muffled response.

Elrond whirled around to eye the boy under the pointy grey hat. The tattered thing reminded him of something... or someone. But he had no time for thinking now. He had to hurry and find that warg hat. If Estel wanted this grey hat too, then so be it. "Certainly. We will buy it and then head off in search of the warg one," he said briskly. He turned back to Lindir. The hatter was smiling broadly at Estel. "How much for the hat?"

"Oh, it is free," Lindir said, looking at him, still smiling brightly.

"What?"

"It is one of Mithrandir's cast offs," Lindir said. He shrugged and looked back at Estel, who had stood up and lifted the hat up from his shoulders so that he could see them from under the brim. "I was going to throw it out."

"So that is why it is so tattered," Elrond said. "I was unaware that you had Maian clients." He went over to Estel and fingered the pointy end of the hat. The material felt heavy and soft. "From what Age did this design spring forth?" He pulled it back down over Estel's head. Estel squawked. "It must be ancient."

"Oh, aye." Lindir smiled at him and raised a hand to readjust the acorn. "Vintage."


End file.
